


Junkers and Dragons

by ThatDarnLakeSiren



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Elemental Magic, Fluff, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Gay Lovers, Gay Male Character, Hurt/Comfort, Magic and Science, Quartet of Dads, Sortof, descriptions of injuries
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-13
Updated: 2019-03-13
Packaged: 2019-11-17 14:28:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,664
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18100349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThatDarnLakeSiren/pseuds/ThatDarnLakeSiren
Summary: You’d think a pair of “public terrorists” would be completely heartless; but that’s where you’d be wrong. Since taking in a lost little child, Roadhog and Junkrat have actually been reigning back the murder and mayhem in an attempt to properly raise the little mite.“Properly” meaning that neither of them want to die and leave the kid on their lonesome, and trying to be decent role models to boot.~The Shimada line and it’s magic was meant to end in Hanzo and Genji. Neither were too fussed about this, but when a child with dragons of their own arrives at Overwatch, the Shimada brothers are left blindsided.As they scramble to figure out where the child came from and teach them some semblence of control over their powers, all the while becoming close to the little one.———A story of adopted family and growing close in unexpected ways, told in short moments, in no chronological order.





	Junkers and Dragons

It was raining. Really, it was pouring buckets and bathtubs worth of water all over the city. Despite all weather forecasts the week before claiming warm, sunny weather. Hmph. Lying reporters and false assumptions were nothing when set against instinct and common sense.

 

Then again. . .

 

Sopping wet, sniffling and sneezing, Junkrat huddled into himself just outside the doorway, looking undecided between absolute misery and joyful awe.

 

. . . There was little to stop Jamie once he got an idea stuck in his head. He’d spent the better half of an hour just skittering about the streets, laughing loud and bright enough to offset the dark gloom of the storm. He’d never seen a storm like this, nor had the luxury of playing in storms he’d grown up with been safe to play in at all.

 

It had left the Junker with a cold for the next day or so, but he insisted it was more than worth it.

 

Their plans had been put on hold for a time because of this, but the setback hadn’t proved terribly dangerous. Local authorities and cityfolk hadn’t caught on to the fact that two of the worlds increasingly infamous terrorists were actively walking among them.

 

Though to be fair, they were hiding out in one of the more rundown areas of town, and kept up their civilian disguises when they had to go out and about, for food, entertainment, or to case their latest target.

 

In spite of recovering fairly quickly from his cold, a second distraction came, in the form of a . . .

 

“Roadie. Roadie. Roadhog. Lookit over there.” 

 

Roadhog looked over in the direction Junkrat was pointing, and spotted what had caught his partner’s attention almost immediately.

 

. . . A small, long-bodied animal with short legs, tiny curving antlers, and inquisitive eyes. It was coiled up on itself like a snake, but had short, fiery fur, and long, thread-thin whiskers that shifted about as it lifted up its head. 

 

The tiny creature had curled up just beneath the eaves of a building, at the entrance of an alley in a particularly deserted part of town. It’s head snaked out towards the duo, only to withdraw with an indignant snort as a raindrop hit it right on the nose, tucking itself up in order to rub at the spot with tiny paws.

 

“Roadie. Roadie, what is it? Whatever it is, I want one—“ 

 

The creature drew itself up, the little scruff of a mane running over it’s back and neck and between those little antlers rucking up; an adorably cross growl left the creature's jaws, cute more than threatening.

 

Roadhog chuckled softly, watching on in amusement as Junkrat fell silent, watching the ferrety creature with rapt attention.

 

Digging through his pockets, Roadhog came up with a small piece of candy. He wasn’t sure what the tiny thing ate, but it was worth a shot at least. He nudged at Junkrat’s shoulder and offered the candy to him when the kid looked up at him.

 

“Here.” He said, then pointed to the creature, “Feed it.” 

 

Eyes lighting up, Jamie unwrapped the candy, some chocolate thing, and slowly approached with his hand outstretched. 

 

“Hey there. . . Wanna try some?” He spoke I an low tone, struggling to maintain his usual manic energy. 

 

The little thing shifted and tilted it’s head to the side, and squeaked curiously. But when it edged out beyond it’s scant cover, it flinched away from the rain once again, squawking unhappily. The noise turned to delighted chirps when Junkrat stuck his hand beneath the eaves.

 

Plucking up the candy in little jaws, the creature froze as Junkrat’s fingers stroked under its chin, a little roughly perhaps, but the intent was there. The Junker was completely entranced by the sight of the beautiful little creature, stroking the soft fur.

 

Churring happily with the attention, the tiny thing did a quick 180 and started whining unhappily, picking itself up and skittering back down the alley. 

 

“Oi! Git back here! Aww. . .” It paused and looked back at the lack of approaching footsteps, tiny ears pricking upright. 

 

It stared silently for a long moment, meeting the Junker’s longing gold gaze and then the expressionless black lenses of the pig-shaped mask. Seeming to judge them trustworthy, it jerked its head down the alley, urging them to follow. 

 

“Jamie!” Junkrat paid no heed, already darting after the fantastic little creature, surprisingly fast with it’s stubby little legs. Roadie followed close behind, admittedly curious to see where this little thing was leading them.

 

The alley itself didn’t run a straight line, twisting and curving behind rundown restaurants, apartments, businesses and warehouses, the main streets forming a far more sensible grid just outside the rectangular tangle of buildings and half-hidden, rarely acknowledged inter-building causeways.

 

The ferrety thing paused every now and again to peer back at Jamie, making sure he was following before taking off again. 

 

Abruptly, the little creature took to the air, weightless and whimsical. Releasing a noise that sounded suspiciously like laughter, it twisted it’s body between the broken shards of a window and vanished.

 

Beyond the rain-spattered glass was a dusty, dirty room full of boxes, crates, and old appliances, all in various states of decay. He caught a glimpse of the creature as it skittered behind a pile of haphazardly placed boxes. His ears pricked up at the very human cheer of delight, his curiosity growing ever-more insatiable. 

 

Although Jamie’s first impulse was to bllast a hole in the side of the building to get in, Roadhog, who by now wanted to know what was going on, pointed out the far more sensible option of opening a nearby door.

 

So, through the door, navigating as ‘stealthily’ as possible around a pair of broken refrigerators and rotting cardboard boxes, and around the corner to find—

 

Not one, but two little creatures, one the fiery red that had lead them here, another obsidian black, curled up in the lap of a little boy. 

 

The boy stared at the two strange men, stunned, while the red ferrety thing perked up, squeaking happily at the sight of Junkrat. The darker one growled, back arching as it took up a defensive position in front of the child, and the child—

 

The little boy stared on, sat in a nest of ratty, moth-eaten blankets and old books, wearing clothes that were threadbare and too-small. A street urchin, living off of whatever could be scavenged or stolen. 

 

Jamie looked all this over quickly, feeling a spark of anger and empathy for the little rug-rat. Weren’t local authorities supposed to be able to help out those who were less fortunate? Of course back home in the Australian Outback, it wound up being every man for himself; Junkrat himself had barely been a child when he’d had to start surviving on his own, right when the Wasteland /became/ a Wasteland.

 

But this wasn’t the Outback; this kid should be with his parents, or in an orphanage, not starving out on the streets.

 

So, crouching down a bit, he tried for a smile to set the kid at ease, “Hey there mate. Those little guys yours?” 

 

The boy started, dark gaze darting from Junkrat to Roadhog, then back to Junkrat. Pulling the fiery creature into a possessive hug, he nodded. 

 

“That one there lead us t’ ya,” he nodded to the creature the child was hugging, “You’ve any idea why?”

 

After a moment’s hesitation, the boy shrugged. “D-dunno… most people don't’ see them…”

 

“Is that so?” The kid nodded, so he continued, “Ya hurt anywhere? We don’t want to hurt ya or nuthin’, I swear, just a mite concerned is all.” The child looked over Junkrat again, uncertainty in his features, “You got a name? Mine’s Jamie.”

 

Ignoring the surprised grunt behind him, Junkrat gestured to his partner, “And this is Roadhog, my partner in crime.”

 

“. . . Crime?”

 

“Yup!” Seeing no point in lying to the anklebiter, Junkrat kept talking, “Me and Roadie here are sticking it back to the suits and everyone else in the world who turned their backs on us and our home, on everyone who abandoned us.”

 

The boy didn’t say anything, gently petting over the black creature’s back to soothe it. The fiery one squeaked and nuzzled underneath the boys chin, gazing straight at the pair of national criminals.

 

“M-my name is Jordan. . .” The boy said at last, then lightly touched each of the creatures in turn, “This is Obbie and Hellfire, my dragons.”

 

“Hellfire, huh? Doesn’t seem that fearsome to me. . . Almost /sweet/, if you squint.” Jamie grumbled, but there was no real disapproval there.

 

The child smiled, laughing softly. “She just likes the title. Usually call her Margo.”

 

“So what’re you doin’ all alone, Leo? Ain’t got no folks to look after you?” Jamie pried, having shifted into a sitting position. 

 

The boy shook his head, gaze growing as sad and gray as the storm outside. “My Momma went away a year or so ago. She never came back from the store...”

 

“. . . And you don’t have any other family?” The child shook his head and Junkrat snorted sharply.

 

“Well. . . You feel like stickin’ it back to those hifalutin’ suits in their shiny glass cages with Roadie and me?” 

 

Jordan froze, every muscle tensing, gaze shocked and tentatively hopeful. “You. . . Want me? T-to come with you, I-I mean?” 

 

“Sure do!” Jamie nodded, grinning widely. 

 

The grin was met in turn, the little boy practically flinging himself at Junkrat and sending the ferrety dragons scrambling from his lap, all to engulf the Junker in as big a hug as he could give.

 

Yelping and toppling over, Junkrat burst into gleeful laughter, looking upside-down at Roadhog, “This is gonna be great, Roadie! I can see it now; you, me, and Jamison Junior, sticking it to the suits and snooty higher-ups!”

 

Roadie rumbled softly and gave a thumbs-up. He had no qualms about taking in Jordan. He would gladly protect both Jamie and this child as they went along on their journey.


End file.
